


something in the rain

by crocustongues



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: (gasp) and they were roommates, Fluff, M/M, Seemingly unrequited love, and they were ROOMMATES, rated T for mention of alcohol, very mushy read at ur own risk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 08:54:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16740910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crocustongues/pseuds/crocustongues
Summary: Over a steaming mug of coffee, Tetsurou considers Sawamura’s proposition. On one hand—next week is finals month; the sheer number of assignments and lab reports alone could bury him alive. On the other hand, Sawamura almostnevergoes out, and for good reason: a slightly irresponsible Sawamura Daichi was an unthinkable notion for everyone involved.





	something in the rain

**Author's Note:**

> hhgfhfh i wrote this for stacy because she suggested the prompt but i was too shy to 'gift' this to her so stacy if u see this its still for u i have no reason to post this except just because

Over a steaming mug of coffee, Tetsurou considers Sawamura’s proposition. On one hand—next week is finals month; the sheer number of assignments and lab reports alone could bury him alive. On the other hand, Sawamura almost _never_ goes out, and for good reason: a slightly irresponsible Sawamura Daichi was an unthinkable notion for everyone involved.

Yet Tetsurou is certain that sooner or later he will give in to the pleading. That is, if he doesn’t immediately screw his eyes and plug his ears shut in the next five seconds. 

_Five, four, three, two…_

Well, _fuck._

━━━━☆☆━━━━

It’s past midnight and Tetsurou is certain that if, by some time-travelling miracle, someone had dropped by this morning to warn him of the consequences of letting Sawamura disappear at a party, then finding him just on the edge of tipsy, and finally settling down on the couch with Sawamura’s cheek smushed against his chest, he’d have outright dumped his mug of coffee on them.

A few hours of terrible dancing later, they’ve piteously rearranged themselves into something like a badly attempted jigsaw puzzle—a mess of limbs, jagged silhouettes of maybe-maybe-not bad decisions on the ratty pink couch in Oikawa’s flat.

There is very little that exists at the moment, at least in Tetsurou’s mind: there is the muffled music that beats in time with his heart, there are the soft exhales against his collarbones, and, _well_ , there is _Sawamura_. 

And, of course, in true Kuroo Tetsurou fashion: there is near-disastrous levels of _panicking._

━━━━☆☆━━━━

In the blink of an eye, it’s half-past one in the morning, and Tetsurou knows it’s time he and Sawamura head home. Their landlord is, for lack of a more polite phrase in Tetsurou’s tired mind, a _pissbaby_ , and loves ruining their fun. He manages to wake Sawamura up, earning himself a dark look, and bids goodbye to Bokuto, who, somehow, was still standing on his own two feet, after having drunk both Oikawa and Ushijima under the table. As to _what_ they were doing under there, is something Tetsurou would love to stay stranger to.

In lieu of the course the night is taking, things only get worse: 1) Tetsurou’s phone is dead and 2) it’s _raining._

So here’s the final picture, to put things into perspective: Tetsurou, valiantly taking long strides with his fringe glued to his forehead, Sawamura, attached to him like an extra limb, and both, singing very loudly—a shamelessly fun noise that sounds very much like the pop number playing at the party.

“Kuroo,” Sawamura says, stopping suddenly. “ _Kuroo._ ”

“What is it?” Kuroo’s afraid they’re going to have to look for an emergency garbage disposal to throw up in, and this is _not_ how he wants to go to jail.

“You’re really pretty. Has anyone ever told you that? Would you like to go out with me?” And just like that, he starts walking again, without waiting for an answer, humming the rest of the tune.

Tetsurou is, in the plainest of words, shocked. 

So much so, he huffs out a laugh, which evolves into a full-blown cackle, because in all the cheesy romances he’s ever watched, the heroine and hero have their disgustingly sappy moment in the rain, but not once has the hero been the way Sawamura is: inebriated, out of tune, and possibly the most handsome man Tetsurou has ever had the fortune of meeting. And not once has the heroine been like Tetsurou: tired, far too full of pizza, and viscerally happy.

There’s usually a kiss, somewhere, too, but Tetsurou’s months of pining and stealing glances at his roommate whenever he can would never survive that assault, so he’s content—at least for now—with fingers intertwined with pitchy and kinetic and a mouthed guitar riff.

━━━━☆☆━━━━

“Morning,” Tetsurou tells the mass of blankets that has appeared in the kitchen.

It says something back, but so incoherently that Tetsurou could imagine this to be a little-known monster in a children’s colouring-by-numbers book.

“Here’s your coffee, Hangover-san. How’s it going under the layers?”

To this, Sawamura’s dark mop peeks out, and he grumbles under his breath about knowing smiles and never drinking ever again.

“What happened last night? All I remember is Bokuto screaming ‘ _shots shots shots_ ’ and then falling asleep.”

There is something close to hilarious in saying a sentence about _Sawamura Daichi_ and _hangover_ and _passing out after doing shots_ in one breath, but explaining it would serve a lost cause since Sawamura looks like a hot mess (exactly like the eggs Tetsurou had tried to cook earlier and ditched the attempts after decimating egg #3 because there’s a reason why they mostly— _exclusively_ , if he’s being honest—subsist on McDonald’s happy meals).

Tetsurou’s lips tug upward in childlike glee as he tries his hardest to school his face into something akin to deadpan seriousness. “Didn’t know you thought I was _pretty_ ,” he says, as nonchalantly as possible.

Sawamura pales visibly. “Oh _no_.”

“Oh _yes_.”

Tetsurou has a hard time keeping his laughter in at an increasingly flustered Sawamura, whose apologies, though sincere, are obviously (Tetsurou shakes his head at his own obliviousness) spoken by somebody trying to deny a crush. This defies the First Rule of Crush Club, he tells himself. Self-awareness is the first step to moving on from a dumb, unrequited crush to a maybe-somewhat-requited crush.

“Sawamura.”

Sawamura stops mid-apology, between _encroaching boundaries_ and _coming on too strong_.

Then Tetsurou says—and his grade 10 literature teacher would probably _cry_ at the parallels—

“I think you’re really pretty. Would you like to go out with me?”

**Author's Note:**

> title is from the kdrama something in the rain which is what i was watching just before i wrote this also validaton is great that's all tysm for reading!!


End file.
